Something Like That
by miettelaenvie
Summary: There was that word again, underage, which wasn't a good stay-out-of-prison word. - for Jenny


**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of _Teen Wolf_.  
**A/N:** This is a quickly written, crack-fic sort of thing for the ever lovely Jenny (on-rooftops).

Okay, so maybe no one ever actually solved their problems with alcohol, but Derek was about four absent betas and two bottles too far to quite grasp that the haze settling over his mind was hindering rational thought rather than helping it, and he was the rest of the bottle away from admitting that's sort of what he'd wanted all along, a break from thinking—about the pack, about the hunters, about his sister, about the humans that hung around his pack—_they were practically children, but then, so had he been when everything started. It was only fair, right? _

As soon as he thought it, he shook his head, as if to shake it loose from his mind. _No, it wasn't fair—not when it happened to him, not now._ He took a swig when his mind inevitably came to the fact that none of this would've happened if his uncle could've just kept his mouth off of Scott, hadn't dragged those kids into this… Derek winced at that, took another swig.

He should probably stop thinking about Stiles as a kid if he was going to keep thinking about what the kid's mouth would taste like. _Probably windmills, or maybe just plain air, maybe Stiles didn't even have a mouth, maybe he just had an air-recycling factory. _

_But isn't that what lungs are for?_

_Yeah, something like that._

But Stiles' mouth, that was fair game, right? He could think about the kid's mouth without it being weird. Not that it'd be weird if it wa_s_ in a weird way, but it was totally weird because of the things the alpha in him were thinking about and Stiles was a little too underage for that thing in particular and there goes that bottle, and yeah, he wanted a break from thinking about the humans because Stiles was human and that meant a lot of things, a lot of things like—well, mostly that the kid was breakable.

_But he could be gentle._ He tilted his head, considering that. _Probably._ He wouldn't break Stiles. _Too much._ Band-Aid sized breaks maximum and oh god, he was thinking about this like it was an actual possibility and it wasn't because he was also older than Stiles and he was back to Stiles being underage and jailbait was another word for underage and then Sheriff Stilinski didn't seem to like him much anyways, he really didn't have to go and give the man another reason to want to see him in handcuffs.

_Handcuffs would be-_ He stopped, scrubbed his hands over his face, took a look at the bottles on the floor around him. _Not drunk enough for that sort of thinking, not yet._

No, he needed to think about something else, because he and Stiles were just not… not… the kid was always getting into trouble and always having to get saved but then Derek got to be the good guy for once, right? _Well, sort of. Kind of. Sometimes._ Not really, when he thought about it. Maybe Stiles had a thing for danger. He was always in the middle of it, which was good because so was Derek, and if Stiles had a thing for danger maybe he had a thing for Der-

_Moving onto something else that wasn't that. Or Stiles' mouth. _

The kid was clever though, he'd figured out what McCall was before McCall even was anything and that thought made his head hurt, which meant another drink. He was constantly figuring things out, and then his mouth moved at a mile a minute—_his mouth, oh god, but really, it'd probably taste like that medication he constantly smelled of,_ and Derek really needed to move onto other parts of the kid, like his head—_head, oh god,_ another drink, and then another because he was still thinking about that and Stiles was probably less underage for that than for the cuffs but still there was that word again, underage, which wasn't a good stay-out-of-prison word.

And Stiles smelled so good though, like excitement and Derek could do with a bit of excitement because he hadn't felt anything even sort of like that in a long time and maybe he could be a kid aga- That thought left a slightly bitter taste no matter how much swallowed, and he swallowed a lot, thinking about how he hadn't had someone like Stiles when he'd been Scott's age, and how he couldn't decide whether it was punishment or a gift that someone like Stiles was here now.

But then, Stiles wasn't here now, which was more of a good thing because a half grown man slumped against the wall in a burnt out house while surrounded by various empty bottles wasn't ever going to be a sexy image, and he realized that's how he wanted Stiles to see him. Sort of. Or at least something to get Stiles to want him the way he wanted the kid's mouth and hips and _underage, he was so, so, so underage,_ and there were only about two hours until at least one of the betas showed up, so Derek needed to stop this-Stiles' mouth in his head, on his—yeah, he definitely needed to stop. Nothing would come of it, no matter what he wanted, and oh, how he wanted; but he'd see the kid tomorrow, when they were meeting to try and figure out what else was going wrong, and that would be enough. For now.

_Probably._


End file.
